


Take It Off, Take It Off (All the Customers Shout)

by froggy (therealfroggy)



Category: Reaper (TV)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Strip Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 01:16:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/froggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The girls at that bachelorette party weren't the only ones eager to see Sam get nekkid on stage!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take It Off, Take It Off (All the Customers Shout)

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to the Andrews Sisters for stealing their song lyrics for a title.

“Why did you say no, Sammy?”

Sock and Ben screamed. Sam turned around so quickly he about got whiplash. The Devil was in his living room again, this time eating from a bag of dried pineapple. Sam heaved a sigh, then got up to join the Devil in the kitchenette.

“Say no to what?” he said, trying to keep his voice down. There wasn't much he wanted to hide from his two best friends, but lately, the Devil had gotten more and more annoying. He dropped in at inopportune moments, such as when Sam was taking a leak, and he made improper comments about everything and everyone.

Not to mention, he'd taken to winking at Sam like he was waiting for something. It drove Sam mad.

“To the striptease!” the Devil exclaimed, more than loud enough for the other two to hear. “Those girls were panting for it, Sam; you could have pegged any one of them!”

Sam flinched. “Don't even suggest things like that! Man, you're my boss! Isn't there some clause in my contract about sexual harassment?”

The Devil laughed, and Sam didn't need to turn around to see that Sock was grinning and Ben was blushing. Sock thought it was all a joke. Sam knew better.

“No such thing, Sam. I could grab your ass every time I passed you and you still couldn't file a complaint,” the Devil said evilly. He winked at Sam again. Sam didn't need to look behind him to know that by now, both Sock and Ben would be looking for an escape route.

“Well, I need some work done,” the Devil finally said, putting a hand on Sam's arm. “You won't mind if I borrow him for a while, will you, boys?”

Sock and Ben heartily voiced their approval, and Sam sighed irritably. They were great friends in times of danger, but when the Devil himself made a request, they were total doormats.

Sam found himself transported to a gloomy bar, clearly closed up during daytime. There was a stage, tables placed around the venue, and a bar. Sam turned a sceptical eyebrow at his boss.

“Well?” the Devil said, gesturing to the stage.

“Well, what?” Sam replied, glancing at the stage. There was a _pole_ in its centre.

“Well, get up there and go to!” the Devil explained, slick grin in place. He went over to the table closest to the stage and sat down. “I want to see that table dancing, Sam.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Oh, ha ha, very funny. What do you want?”

The Devil affected a put-upon expression. “Do I have to repeat everything twice, Sam? Get up there and start dancing! You know, clothes come off, various body parts move? Show me your moves!”

Sam stared at the Devil. “You're joking.”

“No, perfectly serious,” the demon replied, nodding to the stage. “Get to it.”

“What, you just expect me to strip because you're bored?” Sam exclaimed, starting to feel distinctly outraged.

“No, I'm expecting you to strip because I want to see it, I'm bored, and I'm definitely _not_ paying some stripper twenty bucks for what you'll do for free,” the Devil said, grinning wider than ever. “But most of all because you really must be something when you strip.”

“Forget it, you're insane!” Sam yelled, trying to leave. He was stopped, of course, by invisible barriers.

“Sam, you really crack me up. You actually think you have any say in this? You do as I say now, or I'll be forced to make you reappear in the Work Bench, in broad daylight, wearing... this.” The demon sounded disappointed, but his voice was dripping with mirth as he gestured to Sam's figure, and Sam looked down himself to get a better look.

He was not only in women's underwear, but it was all pink and red. _Both_ pink and red. It was the single most horrible thing Sam had ever seen.

“Stop it!” he yelled, trying to cover himself up. “Get me back into my own clothes!”

“I will, if you'll promise to go on that stage and give me a show,” the Devil said, laughing now. “But Sammy, you should see yourself. You look delectable.”

Sam groaned in defeat. “Fine, fine! I'll... I'll give you a quick show. With my own clothes!”

The Devil inclined his head in agreement, and Sam was thankfully clothed once again. Scowling, he walked onto the stage. He would dance a little, goofy like he always was on any kind of floor, and then demand to be put back. Excellent plan.

“Music?” he requested. Sam was a kick-ass reaper but even he couldn't dance without music, or at least a beat.

“Your wish is my command,” the Devil smirked, snapping his fingers.

_I'm too sexy for my love  
too sexy for my love  
love's going to leave me..._

Sam did the world's most gigantic eye-roll ever. “Yeah, like that's gonna happen. Are you insane?”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than rainbow coloured lights came on, the disco bulb overhead began revolving and he felt his clothes change. As in, he was suddenly wearing tight trousers of soft leather rather than jeans, and a fishnet shirt. A sleeveless fishnet shirt, at that.

All black with crimson detail.

“You're insane!” Sam repeated, very much annoyed. “I said, my own clothes!”

“Hey, in for an inch, in for a mile,” the Devil argued, then nodded to the disco bulb. “You were complaining about the music; look where that got you. Are you sure you want to make it worse, Sammy?”

“I can't even move in these things,” Sam muttered, then added, a little louder, “Can I please have my own jeans? Keep the fishnet thing.”

“Ah, the magic word,” the demon grinned. The wish was granted, and Sam sighed in relief.

“You sure this is the song you want?” he asked, hopeful.

“You know what, I think you're right,” the Devil said contemplatively. “Let me find a better soundtrack.”

Techno music. Or something. Oh well. Sam began dancing, trying to ignore the fact that the Devil was watching him. It was always twice as hard to dance when someone was watching.

_High school, high school confidential..._

Sam did a double-take. This sounded so familiar. High school confidential? Where had he heard that song before?

“It's from a gay TV series,” the Devil said as if reading Sam's mind. “Doesn't it just hit spot on?”

Sam was almost insulted until he remembered he was dancing for a male demon. He shuddered. “Sure.”

“Now take the top off,” the Devil called from his table near the stage. “And do some proper dancing! That's not how they do it here, Sammy.”

Sam was exasperated. “I don't care, okay? I've never done striptease before; what do you want me to do?”

He should never have said that, Sam thought in retrospective. As soon as he'd spoken the words, he felt his body move out of his control. It was as if every joint, every muscle, was attached to something. He didn't slump or stand any differently, but his movements were no longer his own.

The Devil's eyes were glittering with mirth as Sam's body moved, his hips in particular doing things Sam had never believed himself capable of. Then one of his legs went around the pole, and he leaned backwards until he was bent in an arch from his hip to his head, which almost touched the floor.

“Lemme go!” Sam yelled, blood flowing to his head. “Seriously! What are you doing to me?”

“Teaching you how to do striptease,” the Devil calmly replied. Sam straightened, then began swinging his hips enticingly as his arms crossed in front of his body, his fingers found the hem of his fishnet shirt, and he pulled it off.

“That's more like it. Keep going, Sam; you're doing great,” the Devil said, chuckling darkly. Sam, mortified and apprehensive, could only follow through as his back made contact with the cold metal of the pole and his arm went up behind his head to grasp it.

He bent his knees, going down. The Devil stopped chuckling.

Sam opened his belt, then leaned forwards until he was bent almost at a right angle from the waist. His jeans slowly began sliding down.

“No, hey!” Sam yelled, flushed even as he straightened back up and grabbed the pole with one hand, swinging slowly around it. “I said just a quick show! I'm not giving you the full works here!”

“Yes, you are,” the Devil said. The jeans fell to pool around Sam's ankles, and he actually _levitated_ a good three inches from the scene floor, causing him to move out of them. “You're giving me _everything_.”

Sam couldn't make a sound; he was too embarrassed. “If you ever tell anyone about this...”

“Oh, trust me, Sam, when I'm done with you, you'll tell everyone yourself. I really am that good,” the demon said. He laughed. “And you look so gorgeous when you strip, Sammy.”

Sam was blushing madly as his body swayed around on stage, a pair of dark blue cotton boxer shorts his last line of defence. His socks and shoes? Mysteriously disappeared.

Then the Devil snapped his fingers again, and Sam smoothly stepped from the stage onto the table. He began rocking his hips, the Devil looking up at him with heat in his eyes.

“Ready for the best part, Sammy?” he said, and Sam tried shaking his head. It didn't work. Instead, he found himself gingerly climbing down before climbing into the Devil's lap, straddling him in his armless chair.

“No!” Sam croaked, unable to stop his hips from grinding in circles against the Devil's groin. His hands teased the demon's hair and neck, writhing like a whore and clad in nothing but boxer shorts.

“Ah, Sam, you're such a tease,” the Devil hissed, his voice disappearing in a hellish sound of desire. “You'll be making good on it, won't you?”

“What? I'm not even doing this myself!” Sam pleaded, his lips suddenly brushing the Devil's earlobe as he talked directly into his ear. “You're doing this to me!”

“And I'll be doing plenty of other things to you, Sam. Enough with the dancing; I can't wait any more. Black or red?” the Devil asked, his breath coming a little faster. Sam could feel his arousal against his own cock and he groaned in shame.

“Neither!” Sam protested, but the Devil turned a deaf ear. In a flash of fire, Sam found himself in yet another location; this time, it was a dungeon-ish bedroom with a huge four-poster bed. Actually, he was now straddling the Devil _on_ the bed. The naked Devil.

The bed, of course, was covered in a black comforter with red seams and other motifs. Sam still couldn't move.

The Devil placed his hands on Sam's hips, pulling them closer, and Sam was leaning in to kiss the demon. Involuntarily, of course. And that was when Sam panicked.

“Please!”

The Devil stopped, opened his eyes and looked at him. An indecipherable expression crossed his face, and his hands lightened a little on Sam's hips.

“Please. Stop controlling my body. Please let me go,” Sam begged, doing his best to achieve his ´puppy dogs`. “Please?”

The Devil growled angrily, but a sense of control flooded back into Sam and he gasped in relief. The next thing he knew, he was being shoved off a furious Devil and the demon was turning away from him in a huff.

“Fucking cock tease,” the Devil snarled, sitting at the edge of the bed. “Consider yourself damn lucky I can't resist those puppy dogs, Sam, or I would have just held you down. Or better yet, made you do all the work.”

Sam was silent. The demon's skin was nearly steaming; he could feel the heat of it. Was that... sexual frustration?

“You've been planning this for some time, haven't you,” Sam said.

“Don't test my patience!” the Devil growled. Sam could swear he sensed something more than anger and insult in his boss.

For a moment Sam could also have sworn that the Devil had taken control of his body again, because he was suddenly shuffling over to the Devil and putting his hands on a pair of scorchingly hot shoulders. But he realized, even as he did it, that he wasn't doing anything that he didn't want to do.

Well... maybe ´want` was a strong word. But he still did it freely and of his own volition.

“Hey... I just asked you to release me, right? I didn't say that I wasn't going to make good on my teasing,” he said, swallowing against his dry throat. “Seriously, I'll give you another lap dance. On me this time.”

The Devil's expression was one of pure disbelief as he turned around to face Sam. “What are you playing at?”

Sam didn't answer. He crawled around his boss to straddle his lap again, only this time, the grinding of hips against hips was so much more intense – it was real. Sam rocked into the hard length he encountered, panting a little as the friction made his own cock go from limp to rock hard in seconds.

“You are one sick puppy, Sam,” the Devil purred, eyes glittering. “Not two minutes ago, you were _begging_ me to let you go. Now you're dry-humping me with a vengeance. What's it to be? More teasing before you just leave? Or just sex and then you'll forever hate me for compelling you to it?”

“Sex,” Sam confirmed, blushing even as he said it. “And then I... uh, my reaction will probably depend on how good you are.”

The Devil laughed. His hands slid down Sam's back to find his ass, kneading the flesh there. Sam gave a start, but kept rocking. “You haven't been with another man, Sam.”

Sam grinned sheepishly. “Which should make it all that much easier to impress me.”

Five minutes later, the Devil was fucking Sam hard into the mattress, the reaper screaming at the top of his lungs as his prostate, cock and nipples were being attacked by cock, tail and mouth – respectively. It took Sam about half a second after that before he climaxed loudly in the Devil's bed, whimpering “Devil!” and writhing in desperate need.

Fifteen minutes later still, the Devil was still fucking away every inch of sexual frustration into Sam's battered body, and when _he_ finally came, it was with a roar and his eyes glinted red.

And two hours and fifty-three minutes after the Devil had abducted Sam from his living room, the reaper stumbled back into being in that very room, too sore to walk properly but with a shit-eating grin on his face, as Sock so tactfully pointed out.

“Yeah, coming three times in two hours does that to you,” Sam replied, sniggering at his friends' retching sounds. Then he went to call Andi to tell her that he thought it'd be best if they broke it up; he'd only end up hurting her.

“Are you serious?” said her incredulous voice from the receiver.

“Yeah. I guess it'd be easier for everyone, seeing as Lucifer's officially made me his bitch now.”

Sam was too busy chuckling to himself to hear her outraged screams. Lucifer was right; he really was that good.


End file.
